


Please

by darkpriestess



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Will, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Top Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkpriestess/pseuds/darkpriestess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is tired of waiting for Hannibal to make the first move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please

 

It takes Will a few weeks to realise Hannibal is not going to make the first move. To be fair, knife and gunshot wounds are not exactly conducive to sexy times, but even so, Will had been expecting…. _something._ But no, Hannibal is affectionate, indulgent, stares at Will like he contains the secret to eternal life, but no more than that.

Fair enough, Will thinks. Time to take matters into my own hands.

One morning after his shower Will walks into the boats tiny kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the air, determined to get an answer. He’s not bothered with a shirt this morning-it's hot as hell in these climes and already he can feel the sweat gathering at the base of his spine. Hannibal smiles at him from the stove, appreciative, eyes narrowing like a cat. Will brushes past him on his way to the sink, smiling at the slight intake of breath.

“What do you smell on me, Doctor?”

Hannibal’s eyebrows rise slightly, but he obligingly leans in and inhales. Will closes his eyes, swaying with the movement of the boat.

“Conditioner. Sweat. Traces of sunscreen” Hannibal smiles. “The fish you caught yesterday. Mostly, just you.”

“Anything else?” Will tilts his head invitingly and allows his mind to drift to thoughts of Hannibal on his knees, mouth full, gazing up at Will adoringly. He feels blood rushing south and lets it go, lets the feeling rush up like a tide.  Will feels Hannibal’s sharp intake of breath, and opens his eyes. Hannibal looks like he doesn’t dare move, like he can’t even get a breath.

“ _Hannibal_. Kiss me. Please?” Will raises his eyebrows, mock pleading. It’s worked before, after all.  Hannibal’s breath finally leaves him in a rush and he leans in, slowly, not taking his eyes of Will. Soft kisses at first, hints of teeth over his lips and Will feels himself melting, wants more, more. Hannibal’s fingers are threading in his hair, tenderly at first and then harder and rougher as he licks into Will’s mouth, stealing his breath, drawing small sounds from him. Hannibal abandons his mouth to drag his lips along Will’s jaw, down his throat, tracing the jugular with his tongue, teeth barely kept in check.

“Vampire” Will whispers and leans forward, pinning Hannibal against the counter, grinding their hips together. Hannibal hisses and yanks Will’s hair painfully, exposing his throat and Will cries out before he can stop himself.

“Do that again” Hannibal growls in his ear “and I will have you over the table”

Will can feel himself whimpering, straining against his jeans. “Please” he whispers, all traces of mockery gone.

Hannibal doesn’t wait for a written invitation this time, spinning Will around and sweeping the table clear before slamming him down, hand hard between his shoulder blades, pinning him down. Will feels his jeans yanked down, the relief of space and cool air against his dick and stretches his arms out to grip the table edges, trying to quiet his pounding heart. He can hear Hannibal slamming a cupboard shut, uncapping a bottle, and then one hand is back on his neck and the other pressing into Will, slow, but relentless. Will sweats and trembles, tries not to tense as his heart flutters in his throat. Hannibal shushes him tenderly, soothing strokes down his back, tracing down his spine.

“It's okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Will sags back against the table, feeling the steady pressure, burning and stretching, melting in the heat and the onslaught of his nerve endings. Hannibal pulls back, adds a second finger, twisting slightly and Will cries out, electric shocks running down his legs, making his dick leak. He can feel pleas spilling from his lips, little whines he didn’t know he was capable of, coalescing into just a single word, over and over. 

“ _Please._ ”

 Hannibal just chuckles and pins him harder, scissoring his fingers in a slow drag while Will grips the table and rocks back against the intrusion, trying to increase the sensations, trying to pull Hannibal inside him, wanting _something_ , anything.

Finally, finally, Hannibal withdraws his fingers and presses his cock inside and Will is up on toes, head swimming with pain and agonising pleasure and the feeling of being taken, owned, _consumed_. He’s not sure what noises he’s making but Hannibal’s hand is back in his hair, gently this time, petting him, letting him adjust. Will lies against the table, shudders and pants and concentrates on not tensing, not resisting, letting his muscles relax. Sweat stings his eyes and his world narrows to Hannibal’s hand running gently through his hair, the table edge pressing into his stomach, the harsh breathing behind him.

“Okay?” Hannibal asks. Will sucks in a deep breath and nods. Hannibal grips his hip, and rocks forward, wrapping his hand around Will’s cock, mouthing patterns at his neck. Will feels his eyes roll back _-too much, too much-_ but his body pushes back onto Hannibal, pinned between the shattering sensations inside and the drag of Hannibal’s hand around his dick, pulling desperate sounds out of him, friction sparking inside and out and always, always, the building, unceasing pressure crackling up his spine, scattering his thoughts like dust. Will can feel the growing bruises of every one of Hannibal’s fingers on his hip, the gentle rock of the boat coinciding with every punishing thrust, forcing Will forward and Hannibal deeper, making him feel like they’re falling off the cliff all over again.

“Will” Hannibal grits out and sinks his teeth into Will’s shoulder, stroking him hard and relentless. Will cries out in shock and the edges of his vision go white, the orgasm crashing through him like a tsunami, leaving him shaking and ruined. Hannibal snaps his hips and comes, sucking a bruise into Will’s throat. Hannibal collapses on top of him, running his hands through Will's hair and murmuring endearments into his skin as Will listens to their hearts thundering against each other. Gradually Will’s breathing slows and the slap of water against the boat and the smell of burning food seeps into his consciousness.

“Shit” Hannibal hisses and is off to rescue what remains of their breakfast, cursing and muttering under his breath in a variety of languages. Will slides to the floor, and leans against the table leg, watching in amusement as Hannibal throws the ruined food into the bin with disgust. Finally he turns around, stark naked, and smiles down at Will. 

“Coffee?”

 Will raises his eyebrows coquettishly, watching in fascination as Hannibal’s eyes widen and his breathing hitches.

“Please.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing pure porn, hope you enjoyed! Merry Christmas to you all :)


End file.
